The Birth of a Nation
by Zizak-Tel
Summary: Based on the Exile or Avernum CRPGs: A vast network of caves has been designated a prison. The prisoners, however, choose to create a new nation, that they might survive, maybe even thrive.
1. Prologue

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has also been drawn from the Encyclopedia Emarian, particularly dates and timing of events.

* * *

The historical scroll had fallen open accidentally. Study of the First Expedition was, while not forbidden, certainly not a proper realm for the man who wished to own access to the ear of the Emperor, a position which he felt was even more powerful than that of the Emperor himself. The text had been written in neat, round letters, never recopied since first penned. '_For those soft crimes, it has often been said that death is too harsh a punishment, yet the dogs return to their vomit when released. Perhaps if they were placed somewhere from which there was no return, the security of Empire would be enhanced, while mercy might be shown to those who threaten our very way of life, even if they shrink from the capital offenses.'_

He thought of his rival, she who did not need dabble in the forbidden arts to rise to the top, who Hawthorne courted as though he might actually consider placing her on a throne beside him. Imagining a life without that thorn in his side, he began to plan, to plant a seed of thought in the mind of his sovereign. So simple, really ... a spell here opening the mind, and the thought planted. Another spell, and his footprints in the emperor's mind were smoothed over, leaving only the thought behind.

"I have been thinking of the caves discovered during my father's reign," said Hawthorne, looking around the table to his council. "I should like to find a way to make use of them."

"But they are deadly!" blurted Hamilcar.

"It could be a place to send those whose energies have been too much devoted to ... creating trouble," he said. "They will expend their energies in more productive pursuits, and then when they have learned their lesson, they could be restored to society."

"Yes," said Hawthorne, "they have been saying I am too harsh. I shall show them mercy. I want the caves fully mapped. Can that be done?"

"Of course," he replied, "it shall be as you desire, your majesty."

"Begin at once," said Hawthorne.

He made a bow of obsequious nature, no matter how it grated, he must pretend that the man who wore the crown was his superior. Dismissed from the imperial presence to begin his work, he made his way to his chambers, and from there, teleported to the laboratory where his most secret work was done.

Lighting the five black candles, he carefully laid the circle, and then said, "Grah-Hoth, I command you! Come here."

The circle was filled by an immense figure of jet color, and if there had not already been a sulfuric odor in the room, there would be now.

"My master, what is your command?" said the demon, bowing, the floor scraped by his claws.

"The caves below," he said. "I want a map of them. If you provide me this, I can promise you an unending supply of souls upon which you and your legions may feast." _He may be called merciful—they do not need to know that those sent will be condemned to die as surely as those who ascend the gallows._

The demon spoke in the harsh language of his kind, and a scroll appeared in his clawed hand.

He spoke two words in the same harsh language, and the scroll moved from demonic hand to his own. Unrolling the scroll, he looked at it, and smiled.

"That will be all for now," he said. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Yes, master," said the demon, and thus dismissed, he returned from whence he had come.

He followed up with some scries of his own, marking a place on the map.

It had been days, and at last he returned with the re-drawn map to Hawthorne's study.

"Sire," he said, "I have completed the map as requested."

Rolling the map open onto the table, he said, "I would recommend this spot as the lower anchor of the portal."

"Very good," said Hawthrone. "I shall have work commence immediately. You have done well, Garzahd."


	2. Chapter 1: The First Exiles

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has also been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana, particularly dates and timing of events. Don't worry if you don't recognize any of the names here—Micah, the Five, and the other more famous NPCs have yet to be exiled.

* * *

As a feat of engineering, there was nothing obvious about which to marvel. The portal had been created, powered, and anchored. The low stone structure built around the portal at the surface was utterly non-descript. The amazing feat of technology was that this portal, unlike the standard teleportation portal, had been designed to work in only one direction. 

A series of carts were brought into the courtyard of the prison. In the year 770, by order of Emperor Hawthorne II, their sentences had been commuted—no longer would they stay in prison awaiting release, receiving the occasional visitor and letter, even sending the occasional letter out—no, now they were being sent away. Forever.

Twelve carts, twenty prisoners to a cart. For days, they traveled, shackled to the sides of the carts, bumping over roads quickly built. Soldiers, armored and wearing helmets which shielded their faces from those of the prisoners, rode horseback beside the carts, in front of the carts—a force which would deter anyone who thought of attempting to free a companion.

The first cart pulled to the entrance of the building. Three of the soldiers entered the building, while two went and unshackled the first man in the cart.

"Enjoy your last look at the sun," said one soldier mockingly.

"Yeah, and your last breath," said the other.

They entered the building. Firmin started to struggle, his eyes widening in fear as he saw the large portal at the end of the hall.

"What's it like down there?" said one of the guards.

"Dunno," replied another. "Dark and unpleasant, to be certain. But after this, these people will be not our problem any more."

At spearpoint, Firmin was marched up to the portal.

"Step in," said one guard, and the spearpoint behind him reinforced that there was no choice.

The portal crackled with energy, and despairing, Firmin stepped in. He had never experienced teleportation before, and was unprepared for the pain, his scream quickly cut off in the room on the surface.

The portal discharged Firmin at the top of a small rocky rise, and he stumbled, landing on all fours. His vision cleared from the wash of quickly changing vivid colors that had taken over as he had been flung through space by portal. It was dismal, to be sure, but not as dark as he had feared. Some sort of green fungus was glowing miles above him. He looked up, squinting, his nose wrinkled as he caught the strong smell of sulfur in the air, and heard the hissing of something unseen in the distance.

A moment later, the portal discharged another man, Talib, who stumbled downhill, landing on top of Firmin.

"Sorry about that," said Talib.

"Guess I should move outta the way," said Firmin, surprised that he wasn't shivering with the cold.

The two men managed to get to their feet, taking their first steps in the caves.

"I guess it's not that bad," said Firmin. "I thought they were putting us down here to die."

"Still might happen," said Talib.

Ctibor emerged from the portal, rolling down the hill. "Damn them," he said. "They did that on purpose."

"Oh no," said Talib, not looking at Ctibor, but off to the distance where something with leathery sounding wings was approaching.

"What is it?" said Firmin.

"How delicious," said the voice, full of malice, and the leathery-winged being, black and twisted in form, began circling closer as the first three Exiles were joined by a fourth. In size, the being was easily twenty feet, possibly more, in height. "How long do you wish to live?"

"What do you mean?" said Talib. "Who are you?"

"Who I am does not matter to you," replied the beast with a malicious chuckle. "It does not matter in the least to you. One week I shall give you. One week, and I will return."

The sound of leathery wings flapping away and Ubaldo fell through the portal down the hill.

"What was that?" said Firmin.

"I think that was a demon," replied Talib. "We are in a great deal of trouble."

"You just noticed?" said Ubaldo, sounding more than a little irate.

"More than just being dumped into a cave," said Talib. "The demon said that it would be back in a week. I'm not sure what we're supposed to do when it comes back."

"You're sure it was a demon?" said Ctibor.

"Not completely," replied Talib. "But reasonably certain. It would explain the smell of sulfur."

"Bah," said Ubaldo, "that's nothing but volcanic vents. Nothing to get all nervous about."

Another man arrived, and those who were already down moved out of the way, off to one side so that the new arrivals would no longer be falling into the growing group of those who had already come through the portal.

"Well, you didn't see it," said Talib.

"There's no point in standing around arguing," said Firmin. "We need to find something to eat."

"There's the river," said Ctibor. "Maybe there's fish in it."

"Raw fish?" said Firmin. "Who's going to eat raw fish?"

"We could cook them ..." said Ctibor.

"With what?" said Talib. "I don't see a speck of wood."

"Then how are we going to even catch them?" said Ubaldo.

"I don't know," said Ctibor, "but just because they stuck me down here doesn't mean I'm willing to curl up and die."

"But what are we going to do when the demon comes back?" said Talib.

"What demon?" said Elgin, who had arrived some fifteen minutes earlier.

"A demon came, said something about returning in a week," said Talib. "And asked how long we want to live."

"We can't possibly fight off a demon," said Elgin. "We have nothing here to fight with!"

"We'll have to find and make some weapons," said Firmin. "I'm sure not going down without a fight."

"Yeah, just like you didn't fight on the way down," said Ubaldo.

"A spear in the back and I'm unarmed," said Firmin. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Not to mention overwhelmingly outnumbered," said Talib. "We're going to have to work together."

"And I suppose you're nominating yourself as our leader?" said Ubaldo.

"No," said Talib. "I'm just saying that we can keep standing around here like a bunch of drooling idiots, or we can start doing something about the situation we're in."

"Like this?" said Ubaldo, as he started running back uphill toward the portal.

He ran into the portal, and those who were already down there heard a mighty thud, as though Ubaldo had slammed his body against a heavy stone wall. Unconscious, he rolled back down the hill, bleeding from the nose and mouth.

Talib walked over to Ubaldo, and checked for a pulse, "Well, it didn't kill him," he said.

"Pity," muttered Firmin. "I don't like the bastard."

"That doesn't change the fact that we're going to need to work together," said Talib, dodging as the next newcomer to exile in the caves arrived. "Here, watch the step, it's a doozy."

"Thanks," said Pravin.

"So, like I was saying," said Talib, "we need to try to get organized if we're going to live down here. Otherwise, we're just going to be a bunch of dead bodies to greet the next buncha people they send down here."

"And just how are we going to accomplish that?" said Ctibor. "We have nothing to work with."

"We have ourselves," said Talib. "We need to find food and some way to make a shelter."

"Shelter from what?" said Pravin.

"From demons and whatever else might be living down here already," said Ctibor. "OK, let's say I'm willing to be in on this plan. What's your plan?"

"We need to think about what skills might be had," said Talib. "Do we have any farmers? Stonemasons? Fishermen? Hunters?"

"I've been a stonemason," said Firmin.

"What happened to him?" said Aakil, as he emerged from the portal, gesturing to the still unconscious Ubaldo.

"He tried to go back," said Ctibor. "It didn't work so well."

"They've created some way to keep us from getting back up there," said Firmin.

"That figures," said Aakil.

"And there's a demon," said Talib. "It visited us. I think we're going to have a week to work with, to take some sort of countermeasure to prepare for its return."

"We will need to find metal," said Aakil.

"I'm sure there's plenty of it," said Ctibor. "But it's not going to be easy to find."

"Then again," said Pravin, breaking off one of the more slender stalagmites, "stone seems to be available in plenty."

"Almost getting used to the dark," said Ctibor. "Going to try to form a hunting party?"

"What are we going to hunt?" said Pravin.

"It sounds like there's lizards down here," said Ctibor, and he moved to get a slender stalagmite, breaking it off close to the ground.

"Lizards?" said Pravin. "You must be joking."

"Well, something that keeps hissing," said Ctibor. "Sounds like a lizard."

Still men kept emerging from the portal at a reasonably steady pace. None managed to negotiate the small hill successfully, and many were actually rolling down the hill as though they had been forced through the portal at a fairly high rate of speed.

Amongst those who had already arrived, some were sitting on the ground, as though dazed. Ubaldo remained unconscious. And a tiny contingent made plans to set out in search of food, breaking off those stalagmites which were not too thick, and working to sharpen one end to a definite point.

Firmin, the first Exile by luck of the draw, joined in the gathering of stalagmite-spears. A stonemason by trade, he searched the ground, finding a loose rock and he began chipping away at the end of the stalagmites.

"Not my best work, to be certain," he muttered.

"Doesn't matter," said Talib. "As long as it will do the job."

The steady stream of newcomers had not yet let up, but together, each armed with a crude spear, Ctibor, Talib, Firmin, and Pravin set off from the area immediately around the exit of the portal. Others were setting out in other directions, still more remained at the base of the portal, as though the situation were worthy of such despair that they might as well have been sent into the depths of hell.

_'Then again, with Talib's demon, we might just be in such a place,'_ thought Firmin as he walked along the cave floor. "Look at the mushrooms," he said.

"Well, that's something," said Pravin, squatting down to look at them. "It wouldn't be much nourishment, but perhaps enough to keep body and soul together."

Ctibor squatted down and picked a few of them, and popped one in his mouth. "Gods, this tastes terrible!" he said.

"Let's hope the lizards taste better!" said Talib. "Do you hear that?"

"What?" said Firmin.

"It sounds like someone's singing," said Talib.

"Yeah, I hear it," said Ctibor.

"That's just because you ate the mushrooms," said Pravin.

"No, I hear it too, now," said Firmin. His grip on the stalagmite-spear tightened.

The singing, and a high-pitched laughter filled the air. Something small seemed to be moving about, and after looking more closely, they saw small figures—about thigh-high to the four men.

"Gimme some of those mushrooms," said Pravin. "I think I'm losing it."

They cautiously drew closer, trying to hide behind more stalagmites, and saw a half-dozen little purple figures—at least, they seemed to be purple in the odd sickly green light of the glowing fungus above. Their visages were quite hideous, and the hair growing in wild shocks about the head seemed to be white.

"What are they?" said Firmin.

"I don't know," said Talib. "They must be intelligent to some degree—they're wearing clothing. Not sure what it's made of."

"Demonskin," said Ctibor.

"Don't," said Talib. "It's not amusing."

"You're the one who said you saw a demon," said Pravin. "What's the matter?"

"There was a demon," said Talib, "but these ... maybe it's leather from lizards."

"At least that's somewhat hopeful," said Firmin. "If they can live down here, why can't we?"

"Good point," said Talib. "Do you think they'd be friendly?"

"I don't know that I'd want to find out," said Ctibor. "The noise they make, I feel like my teeth are going sideways."

The frolic of the purple figures was abruptly disturbed as the Exiles watched, for one very large lizard, nearer the size of a horse, burst from the opposite side of the space between stalagmites. The purple men made some sort of sound that was even higher-pitched than before, and started to run, leaving things on the ground behind them.

The lizard leaped, grabbing one of the purple men, holding him down to the ground, his scream cut off to a gurgle as the lizard bit him. The other purple men were still running fast toward the water, and were almost impossible to see in the dim fungal light.

"Let's get it!" said Talib, breaking out from behind the stalagmite, spear in hand.

Ctibor roughly grabbed him and said, "Wait, let me get around behind the beast."

Ctibor and Firmin then cautiously made their way around the back side of the lizard, which seemed to be too engrossed in its feast to notice them, and once they were in position, they signaled to Talib and Pravin across the way.

Rushing from both sides, they stabbed at the lizard, which hissed, and a mighty claw swiped at Ctibor, who managed to back out of harm's way. Pravin's speartip broke off on the hide of the lizard, and the mighty beast turned, opening its throat for a spear-thrust from Talib, and the point of the sharpened stalagmite pierced through the back of the lizard's neck.

The death throes were violent, and the stalagmite-spear shattered as the beast tried to dislodge it, though the portion through its neck never broke, and at last it lay still upon the cave floor.

"Let's get it back," said Talib, experimentally picking up one of the legs to see how heavy the creature was.

"Look at this stuff," said Ctibor. "Those people left it behind." He held up several partially-filled wineskins.

"Good," said Talib. "We'll take that back, too. Someone give me a hand with this."

"Broke my spear, I guess I will," said Pravin.

"Here, try this," said Ctibor, taking the unbroken part of Pravin's spear, as he pulled what looked like a dagger from the partially consumed remains of the purple man and started cutting strips from the leather garment.

They tied the legs together, and the beast to the longest part of Pravin's spear, and then Talib and Pravin hoisted the pole on their shoulders and made their way back to the place where the portal had deposited them, while Ctibor took the sheath and dagger and the wineskins, and Firmin kept a cautious watch for more trouble.

"Isn't Aakil some kinda mage?" said Firmin as he walked along, warily scanning the surroundings.

"Yeah, why?" said Talib.

"He can make fire," said Firmin. "Even without wood. Maybe cook a little of this thing."

"We've got to clean it still," said Ctibor.

"Yeah, but I'd feel safer doing that where others are around," said Firmin. "There could be more of those things around."

"I'm quite sure there are," replied Talib.


	3. Chapter 2: The First Struggles

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has also been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana, particularly dates and timing of events. Don't worry if you don't recognize any of the names here—Micah, the Five, and the other more famous NPCs have yet to be exiled.

* * *

Bringing the dead giant lizard into the vicinity of the portal was enough to cause quite a stir. 

"What is that?" said Ubaldo, who had regained consciousness while the others were gone on their hunts.

"It's a lizard," said Talib.

Ctibor made the first cut with the dagger he had retrieved from the strange purple figure, and set about cleaning the lizard.

"Will you be able to create fire and cook that?" said Talib as Aakil came near.

"I can do that," said Aakil. "I am glad that you have returned."

"Safety in numbers," said Talib. "There is something else living down here, so I think that's a good sign."

"What's that?" said Aakil.

"Strange little purple men," said Talib, gesturing the height. "Got some wine off them, too."

"Don't drink that!" said Aakil, sounding alarmed.

"Why not?" said Talib.

"Did their voices sound high pitched, with a lot of giggling?" said Aakil.

"Yeah," said Pravin. "Is that a problem?"

"They're gremlins," said Aakil. "Extinct on the surface, but ... maybe they came here by choice, or else the Empire threw them down as an early experiment."

"The good thing is that they do seem able to live down here," said Firmin. "Why can't we drink the wine?"

"It will cause you to fall unconscious," said Aakil. "That's what the legends say. Drink it, fall into a sleep from which you cannot be wakened until it is over ... and in the meantime you will have been skinned alive."

"Good thing we didn't drink it there, then," said Firmin. "Still, the skins should be useful—we can collect water from the river south of here."

"So how long does it last if you're not in the middle of them?" said Ubaldo taking one of the skins. "What? I'm thirsty!" He took a long pull from the wineskin. "This is great!" he said.

"You shouldn't have done that!" said Aakil, appalled.

"I feel fine!" said Ubaldo. "Maybe it's in something they give to people, not the stuff they mean to drink themselves. Or maybe you're just full of it."

Talib said, "Maybe you feel fine now, but it probably won't last. Now, we're going to need new spears and get some water."

Ctibor said, "I'll keep a watch out."

Loosening the dead lizard, they tied the skins to the pole, and set off for the river, as Firmin took the dagger and continued the work of cleaning the lizard.

Passage of time was something difficult to judge, as the fungal light did not vary. Slowly, some of the hunting parties that had gone in other directions returned—some had been successful, others had failed but remained unwounded. Still others returned with grievous wounds from lizard claws and teeth. And others did not return at all.

Using the longer bones of the giant lizards, the Exiles started creating tanning racks, doing their best to treat the lizard skin so that it might be useful. No one had gone very far from the portal, except in the hunting parties, and it seemed that the first burst of exiles would be alone for some time.

It was therefore with no small surprise that the men stared at the portal as a mooing cow emerged, and then another, until they had a full herd of twenty cows.

"What is going on!" said Talib. "What have the cows done to deserve this fate?"

"Who knows?" said Ctibor with a shrug. "Question is, what are we going to feed them?"

"Feed them?" said Ubaldo. "I thought we'd just eat them!"

"We could do that," said Firmin, "and then we'd be back to trying to capture lizards. We could get milk from them, maybe even find a way to make cheese ... and eat them in the end."

"You sound like you're getting ready to settle in down here," said Ubaldo scornfully.

"Considering what happened to you when you tried to go back through?" said Firmin. "We've got enough troubles as it is, without putting all our energy into trying to escape from here."

"Besides," said Aakil, "you weren't all that anxious to attempt escape when we were in the prison up there."

"That was different," said Ubaldo. "At least up there, I wasn't always hungry."

"The other very practical question," said Talib, "is how are we going to keep the cows from just wandering off."

"That would be a very good question," said Aakil. "Sure, there's the river south of here, but I don't know that there are too many other natural barriers."

"So let's just kill 'em and have a feast," said Ubaldo.

"Yeah," said another man, "that sounds good. Get a belly full for a change, instead of a meager ration."

"That's fine if you plan to only live another day," said Talib. "But what do you intend to eat tomorrow and the day after that and however long it **does** take us to get out of this pit?"

"Look, I'm tired of you throwing your weight around," said Ubaldo. "What makes you think you're going to be in charge?"

"Ubaldo," said Talib, "you can help or go. I don't give a damn which you want to do. Take a couple cows with you. And anyone else who thinks that your way's better."

"If you would like," said Aakil, acidly, "we could vote for who would lead us, and see what the results are, and then plan what to do with the cows."

"And there's the problem of that demon coming back," said Talib. "We're nowhere near ready for that."

"Demons," snorted Ubaldo. "You're making that up, just so you can keep telling everyone what to do."

"I wish I were," said Talib. "Believe me, I wish it was just a ploy."

"Gods, what is that smell?" said Ctibor.

There was a definite increase in the sulfuric odor, and a chuckle that was downright malevolent.

"It takes great faith," said the voice, and then the flapping of humongous leathery wings could be heard, "great faith indeed, to think that I am naught but a story. So, you are here ... Delicious."

Grabbing one of the spears, Ubaldo, emboldened by the wine he had drunk, started running toward the demon, and he gave out a loud wordless yell.

"Ah, a worm with spirit," said the demon, casually grabbing Ubaldo in one clawed hand, casting the spear down, and it splintered against the cave floor. "Delicious."

Ubaldo was struggling within the grasp of the demon, screaming now for help.

"Grovel," said the demon, "plead with me ... and perhaps this will be the only one I will take ... for now."

No longer doubting Talib, the first exiles flattened themselves, face down upon the cave floor, prostrate before the mighty demon. The cows, lowing in a panic, began running away in all directions from the site.

"Excellent, my worms," said the demon, as ice began creeping up as though boots upon Ubaldo. "Excellent. I shall return when I am tired of my sport," said the demon, holding Ubaldo tightly in one talon, while caressing him with a claw, breathing fetid breath upon the whimpering once-bold man.

With the flapping of leathery wings, the demon flew away, carrying Ubaldo, and soon but for the distant dripping, and the slight hum of the portal, there was silence amongst the remaining exiles.

Aakil said, "We must work together, so that we may defend ourselves."

"Are you mad?" said another man. "What defense do we have against that thing?"

Talib said, "We need to build walls, and a chapel where we might stay when the demon returns."

"Not to mention," said Ctibor, "we're going to have to go find the cows before the lizards get them."

"Just how are we going to put up walls?" said Brailey.

"Stone is about in abundance," said Talib. "We just need to find a way to cut it, and to mortar it together. The mortar, we can grind stone very small, and mix with water."

"Specifically, the stalagmites," said Firmin. "The stones, we will need to cut from the cave walls."

"And just what are we using to cut?" said one of the men who had been the closest thing Ubaldo had had to a friend.

"We could move away from here," said Talib, "though I suspect that demon would find us wherever we go."

"Not to mention," said Aakil, "that anyone else they send down here would be as vulnerable as all of us were."

"All right," said Firmin, "what we need to do is divide up ... some of us need to find material to work stone, unless there's some spell to do it." He gave Aakil a hopeful look.

"Sorry, no," said Aakil, "nothing for the sort of scale we're talking about. I can use spellcraft to refine the stones ... put protective runes on them, but not carve them out of the wall."

"Then what are we going to do?" said Brailey, who sounded near despair.

"We're not giving up," said Ctibor.

Talib put his hands on his forehead, and said, "All right, we need ... gods, what I wouldn't give for something to write this down ..."

"Fresh outta parchment," said one of the men.

"I know," said Talib, with a sigh. "All right ... We need to build walls to defend ourselves ... we need stones and mortar ... We can use straps from lizard skins and some of the long bones from the lizards to haul stones once we've made them ... should make a pit in here to mix the mortar ... maybe that would be the first stones carved?"

"Sounds good," said Firmin.

"We need to find some metal to work the stone, and we need to find the cows, and to get some lizards to eat," said Talib. "Not to mention more water. All right, we'll divide into four groups ... those who stay here, man our camp ... another group to chase lizards, another to hunt for metal, and another to round up cows."

"That is a good plan," said Aakil. "I will remain here."

Firmin said, "For now, I will go looking for metal ... I suppose those will be the stonecutters later?"

"We'll work out a new division as the tasks change," said Talib. "Of course, no one should be unarmed—those giant lizards won't care much if your job is herding cattle."

"Pretty cold you are, just forgetting about Ubaldo like that," grumbled one of the men.

"Look, if I thought there was even a slight chance we could rescue him, to stand against that demon," said Talib, "I'd be organizing a rescue ... but we don't know where the demon took him, we don't know how to defeat the thing, and ... we can put a memorial to him, but we've got to protect the rest of us."

"And lamenting the situation isn't going to do anything for the rest of us," said Ctibor. "Except ensure every one of us ends up the same way, if we don't end up in the maw of a lizard."

"Death by demon, death by lizard," said Brailey. "Bet none of us will die of old age down here."

"Probably not," said Talib. "But that doesn't mean we can't try to make it so."

Firmin selected five other companions, each man taking a spear, and they left, traveling away from the river, toward what they had determined to be north, though position relative to the world above them was entirely uncertain.

"You're not sorry Ubaldo's gone, are ya?" said Qadir.

"Look, I know you were closer than I was," said Firmin, "but that doesn't make me not sorry—we need every one of us, working together, if we're going to survive down here, even a brash man who acts before he thinks."

"You really think we can win?" said Fuad.

"I'm hoping," said Firmin. "I know enough about building, but getting the materials is a whole different problem. I've never had to work from such a beginning."

Milos said, "We will succeed. Then we'll get back at them, putting us down here to rot like they did."

"I guess Hawthorne's really worried that people would've started listening to us," said Tzadik, "even from prison."

"What does it matter," said Firmin. "We're here, and why they put us down here doesn't matter so much, but I do want to live to see the light of the sun again."

"Dream on," said Fuad, "that'll never happen."

"Never say never," said Firmin. "But our chances hinge on getting some sort of defense against the dangers of this place."

"Like that?" said Zuberi, pointing at a giant lizard that was now approaching at a far more rapid pace than the usual mushroom grazing.

"Yeah, just like that," said Firmin, leveling his spear. "All right, let's make a good half-circle here, let it come to us ..."

The lizard seemed to be galloping now across the stone floor of the caves, a fleeting thought that they might somehow be tamed crossing Firmin's mind, but such things were not his line of work. The lizard came closer, and Tzadik drew the first blood, his spear shattering as the tip moved between ribs, and the beast began to thrash in a vain effort to remove the source of pain.

Finally the beast was still, and Tzadik retrieved the spear tip.

"What do you mean to do with that?" said Qadir.

"I figure I can use it still," said Tzadik. "Up closer than I want to be, but ... better than unarmed."

Firmin, Fuad, and Milos meanwhile began cleaning and preparing the lizard, gutting innards and spreading bones to begin working the skins.

As they started hanging meat to dry, Qadir said, "What are we going to do—wait here?"

"No, we'll come back," said Firmin.

"And what if a bunch of lizards come to check it out while we're gone?" said Qadir.

"Then that's a bunch of lizards what won't be attacking us," said Firmin. "Come on, we gotta job to do, and we're not getting anywhere yet."

"What exactly are we looking for?" said Fuad.

"Any harder rock, or metal," said Firmin. "Wood would be great, but I don't see how there'd be any around here. Any little things we can get that will help us cut rock from rock."

"The best I think we can hope for is some already made smaller cave we can hole up in," said Faud.

"Sure, but I haven't seen anything like that around the portal," said Firmin.

"Who cares?" said Qadir. "We need to worry about ourselves, not everyone else that Empire might decide to dump down here ... if they decide to put anyone else down here."

"Oh, don't worry about that," said Firmin. "I'm sure one of these days, there'll be thousands of people living here ... but only if we figure out how to survive. Or else, people will be sent here, and they can make **their** fort out of the bones of everyone who came down here first."

"Well, that's sure a cheerful image," said Milos.

"And I don't intend it to become the reality," said Firmin. "Now, let's get looking ..."


	4. Chapter 3: Stonework

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has also been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana, particularly dates and timing of events. Don't worry if you don't recognize any of the names here—Micah, the Five, and the other more famous NPCs have yet to be exiled. Apologies for the delay, but my computer decided to quit recognizing the hard drive, and after some repairs and magic by the computer tech, the partially written chapter was recovered (yay!) because my re-write just wasn't going very well.

* * *

Leaving the lizard remains behind, they continued on a journey northwards. Had they been seasoned adventurers, no doubt they would have recognized the source of the stench which wafted from the cavern they spied. Being merely misfits and malcontents however, they merely wrinkled their noses at the smell which was something between offal and worse. 

Planning to go on past, however, was something which was no longer within their control, as apparently the denizens of that cavern had decided that these humans looked like a suitable source of riches—how disappointed they would be if they were to know the truth. But, nonetheless, a dozen small green figures boiled forth from the cavern, misshapen fangs, a foreshortened figure with gangly limbs, armed with stone-tipped bone-spears, howling as they rushed toward the group of humans.

"What are they?" said Qadir.

"Doesn't matter now," said Firmin. "They mean to kill us! Let's make that defensive half circle again."

The humans made their half-circle, setting their stone spears against the charge of the smaller green men. As they neared, they could see that one of the green men wore a necklace that looked like it had been made from lizard teeth, and all were clad in tattered skins of lizards, though not treated like the leather and hide that the humans were attempting to make.

With his greater reach, Fuad managed to bring his spear against the soft gut of the approaching smaller figure, dodging out of the way of the spear of his foe, while another goblin's spear grazed his cheek, raising a line of blood. Tzadik circled warily, his broken spear-now-dagger seeming far too inadequate for such an event, and he managed to bury it in the back of one of the goblins, seizing the goblin's spear as another goblin's spear cut through the flesh of his thigh, dropping him to the cave floor in agony.

Goblins and men exchanged clashes of spears, managing to evade the business end of their opponents. Firmin tried to draw his spear back from where it had wedged between ribs, and frustrated, levered his spear to cause the goblin to cry out in agony as he seized the spear the goblin had once hoped to skewer him with.

Armed now with spear and dagger, Tzadik recovered enough to continue his wary circling, bringing down another goblin. Fuad's original spear broke as he tried to remove it from the goblin, and he seized the spear of the now-dead goblin, just in time to avoid a more serious injury.

Crack and thud, and groans of pain. Wave of fighting, recovery, and fighting again. At last, the twelve goblins all lay dead, the six humans surviving, though Qadir and Zuberi had taken grievous wounds.

"We'd best get back to the others," said Firmin, as he tied a bandage around Zuberi's leg wound. "We might be able to take them with a greater force, but the six of us don't stand much chance."

"We didn't do too badly," said Tzadik, bandaging himself.

"No, but I don't think our luck would hold if we pressed the fight on into their caves," said Firmin.

Qadir said, "He speaks wisdom. Gods, it's agony."

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything for that," said Firmin. "Stopping the flow of blood is about all I know to do."

"I don't blame you," said Qadir. "Just ... I'll be hobbling back."

"I can't think of any better solutions," said Firmin. "Let's take the weapons, anything else look good?"

"Not really," said Fuad. "The weapons are better than what we've made, but only just."

"And that's why we're going to have to go back in force," said Firmin. "They've got stoneworking tools."

"Are you sure?" said Milos.

"Absolutely," said Firmin, taking one of the goblin spears. "Look here, this is a definite mark from a tool."

"I'll take your word for it," said Milos. "That's not something I've ever worked with."

"Anyway," said Firmin, bandaging Qadir, "we should get out of here. No telling when they might send more out after us, and I'd rather not be in sight."

"Agreed," said Tzadik. "Fought them off this time, but we're not as well off as we were."

Quickly, then, they hurried back to the place where they had left the others. It was a grim sight, to be sure, for there were others who had gone in search of materials and not returned, the demon had returned to snatch another victim, and three more men had been deposited through the portal.

Aakil took in the sight of them, and said, "At least you have returned."

"Yes," said Firmin, "and perhaps it isn't such bad news after all. There are these small green men living down here." He gestured the size of their foes, and said, "They were armed with these spears, and if you look, they must have stone-working tools. I think we should gather a decent force and go up there and deal with them—though I suspect that it'll end with killing them all."

"Rather like Empire?" said Aakil.

"Not because I think we're all better than anything not human," said Firmin. "Just, they didn't seem likely to listen to reason—the first we saw them, they were charging at us, just because we were there."

"I see," said Aakil. "I suppose it cannot be helped."

"You're not feeling sorry for them?" said Qadir, his face showing complete disbelief.

"It's not ... more that I'm sorry that if there are others living here, we cannot get along in peace," said Aakil.

"Be that as it may," said Firmin, "we're most definitely not going to be able to get along with them."

"How many of them are there?" asked Brailey.

"I don't know," said Firmin, sounding tired. "We killed a dozen of them, but I have no idea how many of them are actually in there."

"We should all go," said Pravin. "Except for maybe ten or so here to help anyone else who might get thrown down here."

"Why are you so quick to bloodlust?" said Aakil.

"I think it's more a matter of survival," said Pravin. "In case you haven't noticed yet, this place is dangerous ... We've lost near a quarter of those who came with us already, or at least we can presume they're dead, since I don't think that they found a paradise in the next cavern."

"And these things have stoneworking tools," said Firmin. "If we want to build a fort to defend around the portal, then we should get the tools—if there's no way we can trade for them, then ... at least they will not be attacking us in the night, or whatever we use as night."

"It'd be nice if we had some way of marking the time," said another man.

"Hour glass, candles with marks in them," said Firmin. "But something like that now? We're not sure we can survive, let alone worry about how long it is."

"I know," said Ctibor. "Still and all, we are not getting anywhere at present. Let's eat, those of you who got hurt, let's get you mended, and then we can plan out our attack."

Talib said, "Aakil, it's for our survival. It's not perhaps the ideal, but then living down here isn't the ideal, not even close to it."

How long it had been, it was hard to say—five times of resting and waking, and the wounds suffered in the goblin fight had been healed, new spears had been made, and Aakil chose to remain behind at the portal with seven other men, while the rest of the body of surviving Exiles made their way north from the camp about the portal, under the leadership of Firmin and Tzadik who cautiously led the others back where they had been exploring.

The odor was no less malodorous when they returned to the area, perhaps even more so with the added stench of the dead goblin bodies which had been left untended by the goblins as well as the humans.

"Evidently, they mean for us to care for their dead," said Ctibor, sounding disgusted.

"If I had a means of torching them, I would've," said Firmin. "But that's not my talent."

"Might find something yet," said Ctibor. "They seem to be living well enough.

Watching carefully, they still were unable to come to any estimation of the number of goblins dwelling within the cave, but as they neared, the odor of guano added to the stench of the slovenly goblins.

"Oh, by the gods," said Pravin, "we're not going into that?"

"Pity none of us has the means of making fire," said Firmin.

"That's not so," said one of the men, a more recent arrival that the large body. "Name's Hevel, and I've made a small study of the magical arts."

"Great," said Firmin. "Can you make that guano catch fire?"

"I shall try," replied Hevel.

"I'll guard ya," said Qadir, and he moved forward with Hevel, Qadir's spear at the ready.

Firmin meanwhile gathered the others into some concentric half-rings around the mouth of the cave. Hevel's face was a study in concentration, as he had barely passed the mid-point of his third year of schooling before being exiled, and then the flame emerged from his fingertips, and he hurled it into the guano, which smoldered for a moment, and then the flames began to grow, traveling along the trails of guano, leaping from one pile to the next.

Qadir and Hevel hurriedly moved back to stand amongst their companions as the first shrill screams sounded within the cavern, and soon thereafter, armed goblins began to emerge, and upon seeing the humans, with the fire licking at their heels, a fierce battle was joined.

By the time the flames had died away, thirty goblins and seven men were dead. Steeling themselves, they moved the corpses of the dead—goblin and human alike—into a pile atop the twelve rotting goblin corpses, and Hevel managed to call forth flame again to make a pyre of the piled corpses.

Moving inside the cavern, the stench of death, garbage, burned flesh and guano, the ever-present odor of sulfur, and a variety of other, unidentified odors seemed nearly overwhelming. A layer of ash coated most of the things within, but it was quite clear that the goblin lifestyle left little loot for the humans—a few more weapons of bone and stone, and a few crude hammers and chisels.

Collecting these tools and weapons, they looked regretfully at the ruined mushroom farms of the goblins.

Hevel said, "Perhaps we'll be able to make some of those ourselves."

"That would be very good," said Firmin. "Mushrooms, cows, lizards ... we might actually be able to get enough to eat. We'd best get back and see how things are going by the portal."

Carrying the meager loot they had garnered from the goblin caves, the group began their journey back across the caves to the portal, hoping that they would find Aakil and the others had not come to grief during their absence. As they neared the portal, they could see the shadowy figures moving against the blazing light of the portal.

"So far, so good," said Firmin, looking over the figures, and deciding that they looked like they were the people they had left.

"More than we left," said Tzadik. "Not sure I like that."

"Of course not," said Qadir. "But I figure Empire's going to keep dumping people down here now that they think it's convenient."

As they neared, they noticed that Aakil was not present, but did recognize some of the others.

"Where's Aakil?" said Tzadik as they finally came within speaking distance.

"The demon took him," replied Mycroft. "And John as well."

"Damn," said Firmin. "We did get some tools and we can start building, but ... I'd hoped that things would go better."

"And there are five more newcomers to our 'happy family'," said Mycroft with thick sarcasm.

"I'd say pleased to make your acquaintance,"said Firmin, "but ... I'm not happy you're down here. Wish we were all up there. However, we did get some tools from the goblins, and maybe we can start defending ourselves instead of having to give up people to the demon whenever it shows up."

"You know of stoneworking," said Mycroft, "so how will this proceed?"

"We'll start with cutting blocks," said Firmin, "and try to make some mortar. Make some buildings, then put a wall around them."

"Why the buildings first?" said Mycroft. "We're not going to be able to defend those."

"No, but I don't want gates big enough to bring stone blocks through," said Firmin. "So, if you'll trust my expertise, we'll need to divide into crews."

"I'm happy enough with that," said Qadir. "Let's get this work started."


	5. Chapter 4: The Revolutionary

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the character of Micah remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

* * *

Malachi scratched through the coin box, counting and recounting the coins. One copper short. He said nothing to Elsa, though, merely gathered his coins and began to trudge to the mine, stopping at the mine company's store. 

"I need to buy another candle," he said, setting his money on the counter.

"You're short," said Hilaire.

"Could you advance me?" said Malachi. "You know I get paid tomorrow, and I can make it good."

"No can do," replied Hilaire. "Sorry."

"But I ..." said Malachi.

"I'm sorry," said Hilaire. "I just can't do it."

"I understand," said Malachi, and he continued to the mine.

Jud greeted him at the mine, and said, "Ready?"

"Yes," replied Malachi.

"Where's your candle?" said Jud.

"Copper short," said Malachi. "Won't let me run on account. It'll be ok. I'll just work from your light."

"All right," said Jud, and he lit his candle and led the way into the mine.

* * *

No one liked to see Christophe walking up to his house. The mine's manager only made such appearances when delivering bad news. And so it was today, as the boys—perhaps a year from working in the mines themselves—watched, as he went up to the house of Elsa, whose belly was round with a soon-expected child.

"There's been an accident at the mine," said Christophe, shifting his weight uncomfortably, avoiding any look below the woman's hairline. "I regret to inform you ..."

"NO!" screamed Elsa, who did not need to hear the end of the sentence to know its ending, and she collapsed to the floor of her cottage.

"It's just not right," muttered the young boy who had just become the man of the family with the death of his father. "Just not right. Papa shouldn't have had to buy his own candles."

"It's just the way it is," said Elsa. "Miners have to provide their own supplies. At least you'll be able to ... You'll be able to use your father's, we won't need buy new."

"Yes, mama," replied Micah. "I'll go to the mine office first thing in the morning."

And so it was that Micah, at age eleven, began to work in the tin mines of Aizo. The conditions there horrified him, as he watched miners—now friends and colleagues, and often he thought of his father—all too often die needlessly due to a lack of safety procedures which might have cut into the profits of the mines.

At first, Micah went to Christophe, the naïveté of youth bolstering his belief that the basic precautions he was asking for would be enacted—after all, it surely would be better for the company if the workers did not die so frequently. He was bitter upon leaving, being told that such measures were not cost-effective and would therefore not be implemented.

Leaving the mining office, he made a broad loop, traveling into the realm where he could get a glimpse of the mine magnate's house—it was a huge house which, to the poor boy, looked like a palace. It was there, too, that he got his first glimpse of Odele, the daughter of the magnate. She was about his age, but looked far younger for the pampered life she led. Still, she gave Micah a shy smile, recognizing him as one of the villagers. Odele was beautiful ... and completely out of reach for a poor boy like Micah, and it was a very bitter lad indeed who returned home that evening.

As the weeks wore on, now thirteen-year-old Micah had been joined by his eleven-year-old brother in the mines, and it was then that the embittered youth thought of the caves he had played in during the days of his childhood, and one evening he began moving his bedding and some cooking pots into the caves. One day, he simply did not return home after work, and moved into his cave.

In the weeks that passed, three of his childhood companions left the mines and joined Micah in the caves. They reported that while his mother was quite upset, no one else seemed to have given much thought to Micah's disappearance.

They returned to the magnate's manor, stealing food from the storehouses and bringing it back to the caves. On one such trip, it happened that Micah ran into Odele, his arms full of the sausages that he had never eaten in his own home, but were regular items on Odele's table.

"What are you doing?" said Odele, sounding shocked.

"Why?" said Micah with bravado. "You going to start screaming and bring the guards here?"

"Just tell me why," said Odele, shaking her head.

"I've been living in the caves," said Micah. "I'm getting ready. They said they don't want to do anything might cost money, no matter how many lives will be saved, and it's not right."

"You mean the miners?" said Odele. "Like what?"

"Like buying the candles for their lights," said Micah. "Instead of making them buy their own. Maybe my da wouldn't've died if he'd had his own candle that day, an' he was a penny short."

"I had no idea," said Odele. "That's awful."

"And so we're living in the caves, and we're getting ready," said Micah. "I tried asking, and this time, I'm gonna tell 'em."

"And you're taking Papa's food?" said Odele.

"He owes us," said Micah.

"I won't tell anyone I saw you," said Odele. "When will you come back?"

"Why you want to know?" said Micah.

"Because ... maybe I can get stuff here," said Odele. "You need anything?"

"More blankets be nice," said Micah, sounding dubious.

"Give me a week," said Odele. "Good luck." And with that, she turned and left.

Micah stood, mouth open for several moments after Odele's departure. Then, suddenly worried that she had been nice to lull him into staying so that the guards could get him, he ran from the storehouse into the wooded hills until he got back to his caves.

Eight days later, Micah and his companions made their way back to the magnate's storehouse, and found twelve patchwork quilts—all smelling heavily of mothballs—sitting in one box.

"She wasn't joking!" said Micah, staring.

"Maybe she likes you," said Jeremiah.

"Don't be crazy-talking," said Micah. "Lady like that, she's not for someone like me."

"You never know," said Ezra. "She must think something of you, getting all this down here."

"Yeah, and the guards will get us, we keep jawing about it," said Micah. "Let's get the blankets and some more food, and get out of here."

* * *

Edouard looked at the paper again, and then back to Christophe. "Explain this," he said.

"I don't know," said Christophe. "Demand that we pay for the candles for the workers, or something will happen. Delivered around a rock thrown through the office window."

"Sure, we can pay for the candles," said Edouard.

"But ..." began Christophe.

"And we'll change the pay rate," said Edouard. "Nine pounds eighteen. Two shillings a week per man should cover the candles, right?"

"One shilling would," said Christophe, nodding his head as he thought a half-shilling would've covered the expense.

"Then nine pounds eighteen it is," said Edouard.

"But Papa," said Odele, framed in the doorway, "wouldn't that make things much worse for the miners?"

"Odele, my dear child," said Edouard, "don't you worry your pretty little head about the business. It's no concern of yours, and you shouldn't be listening in on conversations you couldn't understand. Get on back to your rooms now."

"Yes, Papa," replied Odele.

* * *

That evening, Odele slipped down into the storehouses, dressed in one of her oldest dresses and an old cloak. Micah was not with the group that entered the storehouse that night, however.

"You're the daughter," said Jeremiah flatly.

"Yes, please, take me with you," said Odele. "I must speak with Micah."

"You want to say anything, you can tell us and we'd take the word back," said Jeremiah.

"Please," said Odele. "Let me speak with him.

"Sure, and you're probably just wanting to know where the caves are, so's to get us all in prison," said Nathaniel.

"I'd never do that!" exclaimed Odele. "I love him."

"You love Micah?" said Jeremiah.

"Yes," said Odele. "Please, take me so I can speak with him?"

"All right," said Jeremiah. "But we're going to blindfold you and lead you."

"OK," said Odele.

Jeremiah and Nathaniel gathered foodstuffs and then blindfolded Odele, and sure that she could not see, led her along the way with them through the night woods.

"Why did you bring her here?" said Micah, his eyes goggling at the sight of Odele in the caves.

"Please, I begged them," said Odele. "I had to talk to you. Papa said he would provide candles for the workers."

"That's good then!" said Micah. "I don't understand why you ..."

"No, that's not all," said Odele. "He's decided that when he pays for the candles, he's going to drop the pay by two shillings a week!"

"No!" said Micah.

"I thought you should know," said Odele. "It's only going to cost him around a shilling per worker for the week. We'd never even miss that."

"But why did you come to tell me?" said Micah.

"I just thought ... it's really brave and noble, what you're doing," said Odele. "I wanted to be part of it."

"Yeah, but we gotta get you back home," said Micah. "They'd look for **you**. I'll take you back."

"Here," said Jeremiah, holding the length of black cloth.

"Thanks," replied Micah, and he carefully blindfolded Odele.

Leading her through the woods, he said, "Why'd you come? You could've just told them."

"I wanted to see you, Micah," said Odele. "I love you. I ... You're doing right, and I want to be with you."

"It's not going to be easy," said Micah. "Might get killed."

"I don't care," said Odele. "It'd be worth it."

"Maybe I can trust you," said Micah, reaching for the blindfold.

"I wish you would," said Odele.

Micah pulled the knot loose, and the blindfold fell away, though his hand remained at the back of her head.

"You're awfully pretty," said Micah, pulling her closer.

Odele reached her arms around him, embracing him, and then their lips met in a kiss.

Micah pulled away from Odele abruptly, and said, "I gotta get you home."

"Micah, can I visit again?" said Odele.

"Yeah," said Micah. "We'll be back in a week."

They reached the edge of the grounds, and exchanged one more kiss before Odele continued on alone, slipping her way back into the house while Micah slipped back into the woods.

"I'm going to marry that woman," said Micah to himself, and he made his way back to the caves.

The week had flown by as Micah began making plans to steal the money from Edouard to distribute it to the miners. _Three shillings a week_, Micah thought. _Would serve him right._

Odele had been waiting in the storage houses, and under cover of darkness, returned to the caves with Micah.

As they traveled, Odele said, "I was doing some interesting research this past week."

"What's that?" said Micah.

"About legal requirements for a marriage," said Odele, giving him a sly grin.

"Legal requirements ..." said Micah. "But ... you mean you're going to stay?"

"I don't think I can, not yet," said Odele. "But ... it's the man and woman who marry each other. They don't need a church. Just two witnesses ... and ..." She stopped speaking, and even in the dimness of moonlight, Micah could see her blush.

"Making a wife of you," he said. "Instead of a maid."

"Yes," whispered Odele, her face turning the shade of beetroot.

"Scares you?" he said.

"A little," said Odele, "but I ... Micah, I ... I think about you whenever you're away."

"I think about you more than I should," admitted Micah.

As they reached the caves, Micah told his companions, and laughed that they had an extra witness. After their improvised vows, Micah led Odele off to the smaller cavern which was his quarters.

As the weeks passed, more and more of the miners spoke Micah's name with approval, while Edouard began issuing demands for the capture of Micah, the amount of the award increasing. Then, one night, Odele appeared in Micah's cavern with a heavy bundle of clothing.

Micah said, "I don't understand, Odele—what's all this?"

"I'm with child," said Odele. "I can't hide it from my father."

* * *

Work at the mines had come to a complete stop, as the workers now joined with the demands which had been issued on parchment-wrappings. Unpaid by Edouard, he was sure they would soon surrender. Yet as the weeks went by, the impasse continued ... and some of the people looked positively stouter than they had in the days before the strike. Hearing that an Imperial Inquisitor was coming to look into the failure to deliver tin in a timely manner, Edouard trebled the reward offered for Micah's capture, and still there was no one who would yield the information on the youth who had become a hero in the eyes of his compatriots. Privately, he fumed, certain that his runaway daughter had gone off to join the miscreant, yet he could not bear to make public that shame.

And then it had happened ... the guards had captured Jeremiah. Knowing he had been a close friend of Micah's, Edouard ordered that no measure be spared to extract information from the man. By the time the interrogator was done with him, Jeremiah was blind, his eyes gone to the gouge of red-hot pokers, fingernails forcefully ripped away, each finger individually broken, and other tortures too unspeakable to mention ... he had expired only moments after finally yielding the location of the cavern home of Micah.

A force of forty soldiers made their way into the cavern, seizing Ezra, Nathaniel, and then forced their way into the chamber where Micah lay abed with Odele, their suckling infant son at her breast.

"Old man is not going to be happy about that," said one of the guards.

"Doesn't matter now," said another.

One roughly seized Odele and the infant, and she shrieked, "Micah!"

"Don't bother reaching for any weapons," said one of the guards. "You have a choice, Micah. Surrender, and we'll let them live. Fight, and they will be dead ere you are on your feet."

"What would happen after that?" said Micah.

"Exile," said a guard. "They've made a place for people like you."

"All of us?" said Micah.

"Yeah, all of you," said the guard, knowing full well that Edouard would never consent to his daughter—no matter what sort of disgrace she had come to—being sent into the pit of Exile. But the lie was easier, as he did not want to kill the defenseless woman and babe.

"All right," said Micah. "I'll go peacefully."

* * *

"I found out what happened to Jeremiah," said Nathaniel, as they rode along in the cart.

"Does it really matter?" said Micah, looking across to Odele and their son, Murad.

"They killed him," said Nathaniel. "They tortured him until he gave us up, and then they killed him."

"I don't blame him," said Micah. "May he rest in peace."

They reached the low, stone building. It hardly looked as fearsome as had been spoken of in whispers. Yet, within, they knew lay the portal which would rip them from this world and send them to the underworld. What was below ... conjectures—and soon, they would know.

The cart rattled to a stop, and one of the guards unchained Odele and Murad. Micah heard her scream inside the building, but could do nothing as the chains held him back.

The guards returned, taking Micah from the cart, and he entered the building. The portal stood before him, and at spear point, he entered the field of energy, and suddenly found himself ... elsewhere.

Micah looked around, standing up from the kneeling position in which he had landed. Looking around, he saw some buildings, shoddy construction, and a few people about.

"Odele!" he said.

"Who's that?" said Ctibor.

"My wife," said Micah. "They put her ..."

"No," said Ctibor, "you're the first one come through just now."

"I have to go back!" said Micah.

"You can't," said Ctibor, putting hands on the younger man's arms as Ezra came hurtling through the portal.

"They did something to Odele!" said Micah.

"Killed them," said Ezra. "I heard her father wasn't going to let her come down here, got some pull to make sure ... That, or she was going to be walled up, same as already being dead."

"No!" said Micah.

"It's possible," said Ctibor. "I don't know who they were."

"My wife ... daughter of a tin magnate," said Micah.

"Money," said Ctibor, spitting with disgust, though aimed away from Micah and his companions. "Them what's got it can make happen most anything they want."

Nathaniel emerged from the portal then.

"So what is this place?" said Micah.

"It's our fort," said Ctibor. "Not much, yeah. Just enough to keep us from getting ate alive."

"What's down here?" said Micah.

"Lizardmen with big spears," said Ctibor. "Goblins with little swords. Mushrooms. Oh, and there's a few cows still wandering around, we think. Unless the big lizards ate them. Hell of a place. C'mon, I'll introduce you to Firmin."


	6. Chapter 5: First Impressions

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the characters of Micah, Thairl, and Janice remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

* * *

Micah followed Ctibor numbly into one of the small buildings. The furniture within had been fashioned out of long bones of dead lizards, leather, and some stone.

Ctibor said, "Firmin, we got a couple more newcomers."

Firmin stepped out of an inner room, and looked at the three men. "I would say it is good to meet you, but ..." he said, giving a wry smile, "I think we all know that there's nothing particularly good about being down here. We've gotten a few things together, but it's just holding."

"I don't understand," said Micah.

"When we first got down here," said Firmin, "there was nothing but caves and the portal. And the demon who comes and takes someone ... We've no way of holding the fiend off. Believe me, we've tried, and it just meant losing more than one."

"So what are you doing?" said Nathaniel.

"Well, at least we're not going to starve in the meantime," said Firmin. "Not that there's much in the way of food, but you get used to it. Mushrooms, lizards, fish. We still find a few cows that survived."

"Cows?" said Micah, looking at him dubiously.

"Yeah, for some reason, a herd of cows got shoved through the portal," said Firmin. "Don't know what they done to deserve getting sent down here." He laughed bitterly.

There was a scream outside, and someone's voice shouted, "We got more!"

"Who?" said Micah. He stood and moved back to the doorway. _'It could be—who else could it ...'_

"Micah!"

"It is!" said Micah, and he ran back to the portal. "Odele, I ..." His voice faded as he caught sight of her.

"Micah!" said Odele, still clutching the corpse of their son. From the appearance of the infant, one of the soldiers had taken him by the heels and smashed the child into a wall. Odele herself was bleeding, a spear wound in one shoulder, and a few minor injuries.

"Odele, I got you," said Micah. "Just ..."

Ctibor had followed, and said, "So, this is your wife, then?" Taking in her condition, he turned, and said, "Someone go get Janice."

It had not taken long at all before Janice—still quite buxom despite the deprivations of the diet in the caves—made her way into the growing throng of people.

"What's the matter here?" she said.

"They killed him," said Odele.

"We'll bury him," said Janice. "Sad enough, but we've already a cemetery here. Now, let's get a good look at ... Oh, my ... that's ..."

"Will she be all right?" said Micah.

"I can't promise," said Janice. "I'll do my best, but the way the caves are, I can't promise."

Firmin said, "Micah, is it? Why don't we get things settled here, leave Janice to her work."

"But I ..." said Micah.

"She'll do better, less crowding," said Firmin.

Reluctantly, Micah allowed himself to be led back into the building.

Firmin said, "So, you're married, and you fellers?"

"Not us," said Ezra. "We been working with Micah about the mines, and things ... well, I guess they just didn't work out for us."

"We got a few women down here," said Firmin. "Still more men than women, but ... well, it doesn't matter much. What kind of mining you folks do?"

"Tin," replied Nathaniel.

"Haven't found no tin down here," said Firmin. "Still, that don't mean that you'd likely have much trouble making your way. As long as the demon don't decide to get ya."

"And what's this about big lizards?" said Micah.

"Yeah, they're apparently intelligent, use some big spears with two points," said Firmin. "They're not much happier than we are about us all moving in here."

Thairl came into the room, and said, "All right, let's get your names down. Need to have the record straight when it's time for tombstones."

"Are you always so cheerful?" said Nathaniel.

"Cheerful? I don't understand," said Thairl. "We're down in this pit, and we're stuck here. We're going to all die down here, disease or monsters, what's it matter."

"Thairl likes to consider himself our realist," said Firmin, "while I'm the optimist. Now—we've been tracking names. We missed some of the first ones, but we think our count's right."

"Count?" said Micah. "Gods above, if I'd known I was going to be spending the rest of my days in a cave, I'd never have ..."

"Nor would I," said Nathaniel. "Been better off building houses in the trees just so there'd be the variety."

"You never know," said Firmin. "Might be a way out of here, if we ever get more than our toehold here."

"My name's Micah," he replied. "My wife's Odele, and our son is Murad."

"Was," said Thairl. "Got to enter that one on both registers at once. Not usual, but ..."

"Thairl, it's enough," said Firmin. "Poor fellow's just got here and had that happened all in one day, no need for you to be relentlessly real to him about it."

"And I'm Ezra, and that's Nathaniel," added Ezra.

Thairl chipped these names into his stone tablets, and still muttering about certain deaths, left to store the stones.

Firmin said, "You'll want to find yourself a place to stay. Probably check with Janice, as I'm sure she'll have had people move your wife into some place."

"How do you decide who gets a place?" said Micah.

"Not much deciding," said Firmin. "Just a matter of matching an empty room to the new arrivals."

"Just a room, then?" said Ezra.

"Well, for now," said Firmin. "You'll see, you been here awhile, it's been a job just getting as much together as what we've got. No one's rich, no one's much more than a meal away from starving. We try to get along. And when they can't—well, they come to me, I guess because I was the lucky sunnava got sent through first."

"And as far as burying?" said Micah.

"Haven't buried none," said Firmin. "Pyres. We got us a couple hedge mages what can set fire, even though we ain't got much worth burning. There's some lichen and all, but it doesn't burn hot 'nough. And I suppose if we was more settled, we could dig us out proper graves, but ... It's been a choice—build stuff for the living or build stuff for the dead. I wisht it wasn't thataway, sometimes, but what can you do?"

"What can you do?" echoed Micah. "All right, thanks. I guess I better go see where my wife is."

Micah walked out of the building, looking around a little more closely. "Godsforsaken place, this is," he said.

"More like hell," said Talib. "Smells like sulfur, demons come to torment us ... None of us deserve this."

"Do you know where they took my wife?" said Micah.

"Lady what threw herself through the portal?" said Talib. "Yeah, come thisaway, I saw Thairl's lady take her."

"Threw herself?" said Micah.

"Least, I heard her tell that much to Thairl's lady," said Talib. "Guess they was going to kill her after they killed the babe, and she decided she'd make a run for the portal. Probably wishes she'd let them."

"No!" said Micah. "It ... It's ..."

"It's better to die together?" said Talib. "I suppose, if you really believe that. None of my concern. Here." He opened the door to one room in one of the squat buildings.

Janice said, "Micah, is it?"

"That's right," he replied.

"Your wife is sleeping," said Janice, "but ... well, I'm not going to promise recovery. I seen too many—the conditions down here are hard, and some that would recover just fine up there, they don't here. I done my best."

"Thank you for that," said Micah. "What happened? They said she told you she threw herself in?"

"Apparently, they were planning to kill the babe and her, and send the rest of you down here," said Janice. "I don't know why. I don't think anyone of us would ever know why."

"That doesn't make sense," said Micah.

"Why should it?" said Janice. "But just before they killed her, she grabbed the body and ran ... took some wounds, and pitched herself through the portal. So now she's here, too. Poor girl."

"It's my fault," said Micah. "If I hadn't been ..."

"Now, don't you go thinking thataway," said Ctibor. "I'm one of the first few through here, and I'm still about. And there's good down here, just the same as there's bad. And we work together, we'll make more of the good, and less of the bad."

"You're the first true optimist I think I've heard," said Micah.

"If you don't start looking for the beauty in this place," said Ctibor, "it'll make you go mad. Look, up there, they told you what to do, where to do it, and who with. Even how to part your hair and how to shave. Down here, no one's mucking in that—you live your life free, like what none of them up there can ever dream of."

Talib said, "At least for as long as we live. Who knows how long that will be?"

"Oh, there's problems a plenty," said Ctibor. "But you can choose to live before you die. Or die before you live. Me, I'd rather live—and up there, I never would've had stuff so fancy as this." He gestured at the leather garments he was wearing.

"You might have a point with that," said Micah. "I think I'll spend some time with my wife now."

"That's good," said Ctibor. "That's a good start there."

As Micah stepped into the room, he could hear Talib say, "Ctibor, you old fool—this place never going to be a paradise."

"Still, it's got potential," said Ctibor. "And one of these days, they're going to send us someone help us bring it out."

Micah closed the door behind him, shutting off the argument between Talib and Ctibor.

"Odele?" he said, cautiously, but saw that she was indeed asleep. The baby was not there, but he could see no sign that the child's body had been brought into the room at all. Suddenly tired from the emotions of the day thus far, he kicked off his boots and crept into the pallet beside Odele, holding her close.

As he started to drift off to sleep, he thought about the opinions—paradise, hell, place of struggle, place of eventual death, monsters, demons, and thoughts of doing more than mere survival—if only someone would lead them, they could achieve greatness.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, had moved to the poor smudge-fire of lichen and took a share of lizard meat.

"What you folks do?" said Tzadik.

"Mining," said Nathaniel. "Or you mean what we got sent down here for?"

"What you got sent down here for?" said Tzadik. "That'd be a rude question to ask. Unless you're wanting to tell."

"Why not?" said Nathaniel. "Micah was working to bring better conditions to the miners, and he went and married the daughter of the mine's owner. Mine's owner didn't like that none. That girl, she got a mind of her own, and it was secret. At least, until she got with child, and then she come live with us in our base."

"Real rabble-rousers," said Tzadik.

"We were starting to get somewheres," said Nathaniel. "But they caught Jeremiah."

"He give you up?" said Fuad.

"Yeah," said Nathaniel. "After they tortured him. Heard about it from someone what saw him just afore he died."

"There's only so much a man can take," said Tzadik, nodding. "Then again, you believe things happen for a reason?"

"Can't say's I ever thought on it," said Nathaniel.

"Well, I believe it," said Tzadik. "And maybe folks what can make a fight for the common folk big enough that Empire cares to go to all lengths to get 'em and send 'em down here ... maybe thems the folks what will get us past scratching for the toehold, and get us a place here."


	7. Chapter 6: Small Victories

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the characters of Micah, Thairl, and Janice remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

* * *

"Fall back! Fall back!" cried John, as he dropped the lizard carcass. "We've got to get to the walls."

The hunting party broke up as the lizardmen came swarming over the cave floor toward them, the organization falling apart as several hunters just turned tail and ran for the relative safety of the walls.

Micah, however, remained somewhat resolute, gripping the spear that he had been given for hunting, and then raising the shield that had been fashioned from bone and tanned lizard hides.

"Stay together, we'll turn them back!" called Micah.

Ctibor looked at Micah with some surprise, but the resolution on the young man's face was sufficient to galvanize him, and he raised his shield and readied his spear. "You sure about this?" he said.

"We'll still retreat for the walls," said Micah. "Just not give 'em our backs as targets on the way."

"Hold the line!"called Ctibor.

Three of the other members of the hunting party turned back, and seeing Ctibor and Micah, pushed back their fear and joined in forming a small half-circle, as they carefully retreated toward their fort, jabbing spear points, clashing spear with spear, but the two-tined spears of their foes scratched shields, not human flesh.

"Here they are!" shouted the watcher from the tower at the corner of the fort. "Open the gate!"

"All of them?" said Firmin.

"All!" replied the watchman.

The gate opened, and those on the walls began throwing the smaller stones and the throwing spears they had made, forcing the lizardmen back as the five humans entered the fort.

"Take up your posts on the ramparts," said Firmin, "we'll talk later."

Micah ran up the stone steps, barely pausing to see Odele's white face, and he took up his position, throwing small spears at the usually deadly lizardmen.

"They're retreating!" came up the cry, half-cheer.

Micah remained in his position until it was clear that the withdrawal was not a mere feint to lull them into complacency while a larger force moved to attack, and then descended.

Odele said, "Micah!"

"Odele!" said Micah, running toward her. "Are you sure you should be about like this?"

"I was so worried!" said Odele. "I heard the men saying that they'd come under attack, and then I saw you weren't with them!"

"I'm sorry, Odele," said Micah. "I thought you'd be staying in the room. You sure you should be out?"

"I'm feeling much better," said Odele.

"It's just ... I worry about you," said Micah.

"And you don't think I worry about you?" said Odele.

"I'm sorry," said Micah. "I guess I ..."

Firmin walked over and said, "Micah, I'd like to speak with you. I understand that you're largely to thank for getting everyone back alive."

"It wasn't anything that remarkable," said Micah. "Just I figured we should try to hold them off and get back here without showing them our backs for easy targets."

"You could have been killed!" said Odele.

"Yeah, but more likely woulda if we'd turned tail and run," said Micah.

"Well, it's thanks to you, we've done the best yet, sending those damned lizards back to whatever hole they slither out of," said Firmin.

"It wasn't that ... I mean, anyone could've done the same," said Micah.

"Anyone could've," said Firmin, "but Ctibor told me ... you kept your head about you, and that's what held the group together. I'd really like to have you work to organize the others."

"I'd be glad to help," said Micah.

"Great," said Firmin.

"Now, if only they left the lizard we got while we were hunting," said Micah.

"You can't go back out so soon!" said Odele.

"No, they're probably lying in wait," said Firmin. "Best to go another direction altogether. Forget that lizard. There's plenty more where it came from."

"And that's the truth," said Ctibor. "I'd be glad to go on any hunting expedition with you, Micah."

"But he just got back!" said Odele.

"And I didn't bring back any of the food we're needing," said Micah.

"You're wife's right," said Firmin. "There's still fish laid by. Let those two-legged lizards settle back, then it'll be time to go back out on the hunt."

"All right," said Micah, "I understand."

"You rest up," said Firmin, "and then you can start working with the others in the morning."

Micah nodded, even as he was privately wondering just what Firmin meant by morning, as the fungal light never varied.

The small room was furnished with stone, leather, and a few things made of bone. Odele pushed the fungus together, bringing the flame to life again.

Micah sat down, staring into the flame for a moment, before he said, "I sure wish I wasn't down here."

"You'd rather be dead up there?" said Odele.

"No," said Micah, "just ... up there, I felt like I might've made a difference. If only they hadn't caught Jeremiah. That they were starting to have to listen, and that people's lives would get better. Down here, doing nothing but trying to stay a meal ahead of death. I hate these caves."

"They're not that bad," said Odele.

"It's just a barren wasteland," said Micah, "and even if I can fight against the lizards, there's no fighting against the demons."

"I think it's beautiful," said Odele. "It's ... it's different, but still."

"I admit," said Micah, "I don't see it."

"You were willing to risk everything up there to try to make things better for people," said Odele, "why should it be different here?"

"And why would you worry so much about me leaving the fort to get food?" said Micah.

"I can't help it," said Odele. "I saw the others come running into the fort, and you weren't with them. I feared for the worst. I ... I should have known better."

"I understand, Del," said Micah. "If the others hadn't joined up with me, I suppose it would've gone different. At least, the lizards didn't expect it."

"You ever wonder how they do so well?" said Odele, turning over the thin fish strips. "I mean, they have all that energy to attack us, and we're ... just barely getting by."

"I don't know," replied Micah. "Maybe instead of fighting the demons, they've made some sort of deal with them."

"That's too awful to think about!" said Odele. "If that's so, we don't stand a chance."

"I need your optimism," said Micah, smiling at her. "Don't be giving up just yet."

"It's just ... I know that we haven't managed to stop the demons," said Odele. "And if they're helping those lizardmen! Why, no wonder they have been such a problem."

"And if we can just beat back one problem," said Micah, "maybe then we can face off the other problem. Force those lizards back, and then we'll be able to take on the demons."

"Where do you suppose they came from? The lizards, I mean?" said Odele.

"No idea," replied Micah. "Nobody seems to know, except that there's more of them the more west we go. Or at least, we run into them quicker thataway."

As Odele moved the food onto the stone dishes, they heard a knock at the door to their room, and Micah went over to answer it.

"Good to see you, Ezra," he said, letting his friend into the room.

"Well, I think it's more me should be saying it to you," replied Ezra. "I heard about what happened on the hunt today."

"Seems like that's getting around quick," said Micah, flushing.

"Well, it's the first bit of good news, really good news, that is," said Ezra, "that I think I've heard since we all landed down here."

"It just seemed ... the right thing to do," said Micah.

"Yeah, well you got a way about you," said Ezra. "Making the right thing to do seem like the right thing for not just you."

"If that were so," said Micah, "we wouldn't be down here in the first place."

"Some people's just more stubborn than others," said Ezra. "But you mark my words, there'll come a day when the old man will wish he'd listened to you and not got you thrown down here, not you and his daughter and all."

"And had his own grandson killed," said Odele. "I don't know what my father was thinking."

"Doesn't matter much," said Micah. "Guess he just didn't like me as a son-by-law."

"And that don't matter at all," said Ezra. "Folks down here talking, and they like you. Firmin's a good man, but he's more organizer than leader, and we're needing a leader."

"What makes you think that they'd listen to me?" said Micah. "I'm younger than near all of them."

"What's that matter?" said Ezra. "Fact is, you're the one who got us our first solid victory against the lizards."

"How can you call it a solid victory?" said Micah. "Lizard meat left on the cave floor."

"And not one of the people you set out with was lost," said Ezra. "That ain't never happened in any group when the lizards, the two-legged ones, I mean—not when they attack."

"There's gotta be another word for them," said Micah. "Something so's folk know whether we're talking about them, or talking about the four-legged ones we hunt."

"You're changing the subject," said Ezra. "Micah, there's never been afore today, that the two-legged lizards turned back without harming a single one of us. That's something you should be proud of."

"I'd be more proud if we'd gotten the food home," said Micah, digging into his fish.

"You're always reaching for the stars," said Ezra. "Let people enjoy the first victory, before complaining that it wasn't good enough."

"All right, I'll do that," replied Micah.

As the days passed, Micah began working with the others who had gathered in the fort, though they did not have a repeat victory when the demon came to claim another soul, and yet another man was lost to the foul creature. Determined not to be discouraged, Micah continued drilling with the others, and finally they began emerging again on the hunts for giant lizards—and forcing back the two-legged lizardmen while successfully bringing home lizard carcasses and not losing another man in the expedition.

Still, Micah found himself not quite satisfied. Despite the demon's appearances to steal away people, there was a slow, but steady stream of newcomers, and they were beginning to get quite crowded within the fort—yet just maintaining this one small toehold for humanity in the caverns was the pinnacle of their efforts.


	8. Chapter 7: Long Knives

A/N: I knew where I wanted to go, but accomplishing the task just wasn't working out well for me, and I had to dump a big section and re-write. I hope you all find it worth the read—a few vignettes from the surface again. The world of Exile remains the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software. Some material has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana. I do not own Midori, Vinnia, Garzahd, Patrick, Rone, Erika, Enla, Linda, Aimee, Solberg, or Cheeseball.

* * *

The skeletal features had been drawn over with the thinnest veneer of what looked like human skin. A closer examination would reveal it was no more than a magical illusion, a glamor used because her true appearance was so repulsive that most had difficulty looking or speaking with her. And of course, there was the fact that her existence in such a state was highly illegal ... but Hawthorne had looked the other way. The closer examination would be difficult for most, as the heavy robes, hood drawn up concealed her well, but this visitor seemed to see past the illusion, and still not care. 

"This place, it is well-supplied?" she said.

"You will have everything you could possibly need," replied the supplicant. "Experiments unfettered by the restrictions for ... smaller minds."

"And no one will interfere?" she said.

"No one. No one will even know you are there," came the reply.

"And in return, what is it you want?" asked Midori, ageless eyes piercing the robed figure before her.

"A position on the triad," came the reply.

"Vinnia will never agree to that," said Midori.

"Vinnia is a fool," he replied.

"You know that Vinnia supports the ascension of Erika Redmark," said Midori. "And there is no question that Erika's talents would serve the Triad well."

"Then perhaps it is Vinnia's place that I should take," he replied.

"You are over-reaching yourself," said Midori. "You may find you come to a bad end someday. Be that as it may, your offer does appeal to me. I tire of needing to hide my experiments, and even my true face. It shall be so."

"The fortress awaits you," he said. "Whenever it should be convenient for you to make the move."

"I shall let you know," said Midori. "When I have seen for myself that the fortress is satisfactory to my needs, your requests shall be provided."

Recognizing dismissal, he stood and bowed, then left.

* * *

The sound of hand meeting face resounded through the room, rather to the shock of both the slapper and the slapped. 

"You will regret that!" said Garzahd, rubbing the side of his face. "Not a day in your life will pass when you don't regret what you have done."

"There's not a day would pass I wouldn't regret not doing that," said Enla, her voice steady while her hands shook violently. "Get out of my sight! I never want to see you in my labs again."

"That can certainly be arranged," said Garzahd, and he turned on his heel, and left the laboratory with an amazingly long stride for such a hunched figure.

The young woman followed in his wake, sobbing, but Garzahd did not stop.

"Pbbh!" said Enla, shaking her head. "At least, I'll have a moment's peace here." With that, she returned to her work.

* * *

"Did you hear what has happened?" said Solberg, sounding quite agitated. 

"No," said Erika, "and I hope it is something that is worthy of the disruption."

"Enla has been sentenced to Exile!" said Solberg.

"Enla?" repeated Erika, trying to place the name.

"The barrier expert," supplied Solberg. "It's Garzahd's doing."

"He has been reaching higher," said Erika, "and soon enough will come too close to the sun and perish."

"I rather suspect that he will harm us all before that happens," said Solberg. "You've got Hawthorne's ear."

"I'll see what I can do," said Erika.

* * *

Vinnia reached for the vial, having decanted her longevity potion once more. She was growing tired, and she thought perhaps that it was time that she stop drinking the potion. Long had she served, under Stewart, under the first Hawthorne, and now under the second Hawthorne. And she was tired. Too tired to notice the odd fungus, too tired to notice the potion had not turned the correct color upon brewing. 

Vinnia tipped back the vial, swallowing the contents. The vial fell from her hand, shattering, as the skin of her hand went from the supple appearance that she had so carefully maintained to that of a crabbed old woman, wrinkled, age-spotted, and devoid of extra flesh. Even faster, and the joints became stiffened in death, though the potion adulterated by the fungus continued to work, her skin drawing closer to the bones, the fluid draining away, until all that had remained were the bones, something that had happened so fast that she had barely been able to voice the syllable "Gar--" Whether it was the sound of choking, a call for help, or an accusation, none would ever no, for just as suddenly, her corpse burst into flame leaving behind a pile of ashes which began to blow in the breeze a moment later.

* * *

"Vinnia is dead?" said Patrick, sounding incredulous. "Why, she seemed ..." 

"It seems there was something wrong with a potion she brewed," said Erika. "Or perhaps she did not brew it. Nonetheless, it is a fact that there is now an open seat on the Triad. And you know ... I cannot openly seek the position, but must have others make the case for me."

"Of course, Erika," said Patrick, "you are quite the obvious choice."

"I am not sure that I would say that," said Erika, "and I do not expect to be without opposition."

"Who would oppose?" said Solberg. "You know that I will promote ..."

"Garzahd, of course," said Erika. "He is all but the ear-piece of Hawthorne, and Hawthorne would wish to have him on the Triad, to cement Imperial control over research. Such a thing ... Hawthorne is a small mind, and he should not be allowed to restrict research even more than it is already restricted."

"You had best be mindful," said Rone. "Saying less has gotten some thrown into that pit known as Exile."

"I was under the impression that I am amongst friends," said Erika.

"You are," said Rone, "but that doesn't mean that I would not warn you ..."

"I hear your warning," said Erika, "but I say such things merely to point out what is at stake. If Garzahd were to become a member of the Triad, it might as well be Hawthorne sitting upon the seat."

Aimee said, "He will be there. I have seen it."

"Traveling through time again?" said Patrick. "You know that such things can hardly be considered a reliable indication ... there are too many possibilities for free will to thwart the thread that you have seen."

"Be that as it may," said Aimee, sounding thoroughly unperterbed, "I do not think that it will end well for us."

Cheeseball hacked, "Mystics!"

"Mind your manners!" said Solberg sharply.

"If you wished me to mind my manners," said Cheeseball, "perhaps you should have given greater thought to my name. Something like Maahes, for instance."

"You're a cat, not a divinity," snorted Solberg.

"What's the difference?" said Cheeseball.

"Enough," said Erika. "You two can argue somewhere I do not have to listen to you."

* * *

"I understand that you seek the seat," said Linda, looking earnestly at Erika. 

"You should know," said Erika severely, "that one does not seek such a seat. The seat seeks those who are great enough for it, and anyone who pursues it is unworthy."

"That's the official line," said Linda, "but everyone knows that behind the scenes, there are those who are organizing their supporters to promote them."

"And if you are here to ask me to support Garzahd ..." said Erika.

"No," said Linda. "I am not in his camp."

"You could have fooled me," said Erika archly.

"I was foolish," said Linda. "I allowed his glib tongue to persuade me, but it is no longer."

"A lovers' spat?" said Erika. "I wouldn't believe ..."

"It is only a matter of time before he sends me to Exile," said Linda. "Unless ... unless you were to be on the Triad rather than he."

"And why would he send you to Exile?" said Erika. "You've been his right hand girl."

"Garzahd is not a great talent," said Linda. "The pupil will soon outshine the master, and when that happens, he will hate me as much as ... no, he never did love me. As much as ever he seemed to approve of me."

"Well, it seems in that respect you have got the measure of the man," said Erika. "I am glad that you are not thrall to him so much as it seemed."

"I would help you," said Linda. "I can help you. To make the case for you."

"Do as you will," said Erika. "What you think is right."

With a bow, Linda left.

* * *

"You don't trust her!" said Ostoth. "Why, she was part and parcel of seeing Enla sent into exile." 

"No, I don't trust her," said Erika. "But ... I have not said anything which could be reported amiss. I know you miss Enla, and I miss talking with her at times myself."

"Garzahd has to be stopped," said Ostoth.

"Patience," said Erika. "Moving too fast is a sure way to fall."

"Moving too slow is an even surer," said Solberg.

"Why, yes, Cheerful One," said Erika.

"We've gotten the ball rolling," said Rone.

"Excellent," said Erika. "It won't be long ... Vinnia's office, and ... I'll take care of that little hunchback once and for all ..."

* * *

The last of the conjured images faded, and as he had known, the emperor's face was contorted in a scowl. 

"Brood of vipers!" said Hawthorne.

"Yes, your majesty," said Garzahd. "There is one way to deal with them ..."

"Exile," said Hawthorne. "I will write the orders this very day."

"We will need to take precautions," said Garzahd. "Redmark is ... powerful. She must not be able to come into the sun, or she will do so and revenge herself against my lord."

"Then we will see to it that she cannot," said Hawthorne, with a dismissive gesture. "Ancient curses ... we will find the way."

"Of course we shall," said Garzahd. "None who oppose my lord will be allowed to stand in the light of the sun. But such mercy, my lord, the people approve of the mercy meted out in your justice."

_'Simple-minded fool,'_ thought Garzahd behind the carefully guarded walls of his mind. _'How easy it is to manipulate him, to get exactly what I want—the throne, bah! I am the power behind the throne, far better than sitting within it.'_

* * *

Stone walls, stone door. Erika awoke, taking some time to re-collect where she was and how that had happened._ 'A locked door, how simple,' _she thought. She went to the door, attempting the ridiculously simple spell to unlock the door, and reached for the handle ... and it remained locked. 

"You cannot escape," said Garzahd, opening a small slitted window on the door. "I'm glad that you are awake."

"Dear, sweet Garzahd," said Erika. "Whatever is going on?"

"It seems that His Imperial Majesty has named you a threat to the Empire," said Garzahd. "You will be going into exile. I have been instructed to ensure that you do not return to the surface ... ever."

"I'm not afraid of you, Garzahd," said Erika.

"You should be," said Garzahd. "I have created a curse, unbreakable, you see."

"You aren't creative enough to invent anything," said Erika.

"No, perhaps not," said Garzahd. "Doesn't matter--I know how to get the job done, and that is what is important. You will be sent into exile."

"You're repeating yourself," snapped Erika.

"Ah, so I am," said Garzahd. "Unimportant. The important thing for you to know is that ... you will die if the light of the sun ever touches you. The slightest ray of the sun, and you will turn into a human torch."

"I always knew you cared, Garzahd," said Erika, her face forming into a mask of scorn hiding the fury she felt.

"Indeed," said Garzahd. "I hope you enjoy the last of the decent food you'll ever see. Give my regards to those you'll meet."

With that, the slit closed, and Erika heard Garzahd walking away.

"You will pay," said Erika, under her breath.

She did not know how it was that they had been given away, she did not know if only she had been so condemned. It did not matter.

"I will spend the rest of my life ensuring that you and Hawthorne pay dearly for this," she vowed.


	9. Chapter 8: Arrival of the Mages

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the characters of Micah, Thairl, Janice, Enla, Erika, Solberg, Cheeseball, Rone, Patrick, Hathwisa, Aimee, Ostoth, and Linda remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

* * *

The walls still held together, that was the most that could be said for them. Heavily scorched, the smell of sulfur was thick in the air.

"I will never forgive you for this!" spat the ball of fluff that had just emerged from the portal.

"That cat talks?" said Firmin.

"Of course I talk," said the cat with a sigh. "I am Cheeseball. You can thank Dunderhead there for the name, I certainly don't."

"Oh, cheer up," said Solberg.

"Why?" said Thairl. "We're all doomed. We will all die."

"I knew it! I knew it!" said Cheeseball. "Imagine me, here in the prime of my life, sent down to this stinking pit, all because ..."

"Oh, do put a sock in it," said Erika, emerging from the portal. "I would say a pleasure to see you again, Solberg, but ... circumstances as they are ..." She waved a hand, and looked rather delighted to see that the magic-dampening field had vanished with the pass through the portal.

"I see Garzahd got you, too," said Solberg. "I am sorry."

"Oh, don't worry," said Erika, "that little worm will pay for what he's done."

"Erika!" said Enla.

"Enla, how have you been?" said Erika.

"I ..." said Enla, pausing as Linda emerged from the portal.

"Enla, I'm terribly sorry," said Linda. "I ..."

"It's past," said Enla. "And I wouldn't have given Garzahd the time of day even ..."

"Welcome," said Firmin, stepping over. "We never know when someone's going to be unfortunate enough to join us down here. I'm Firmin, the first Exile."

"Charmed," said Erika, raising an eyebrow.

"And this here is Micah, I guess acting mayor," said Firmin. "We don't have a title, exactly. Haven't had need for it."

"Delighted," said Erika.

"Now, that's not any way to get off on the right foot," said Rone.

"Gods, he got everyone!" said Erika.

"Garzahd is ... thorough," said Aimee. "I knew it would be so."

"Yes, Miss Cheerful," said Patrick, giving Hathwisa a steadying hand.

"This is ... it needs a great deal of work," said Erika. "What **have** you been doing down here?"

"Trying to stay alive," said Micah, evenly. "There is a demon that regularly assaults these walls, and it's all we can do to keep our losses to a minimum. Then there are the two-footed lizardmen who attack us. Not much food. But welcome to our struggles."

Erika snorted, and said, "Haven't been trying hard enough. Well, then. I'll need a house with as best you can provide a lab, for now."

"A house?" said Micah. "I can ... a room. That's about all any of us have."

"A room? Do you know ... I am Erika Redmark."

"Down here, it doesn't matter," said Micah. "Whoever we were up there ... it doesn't matter."

"I should ..." said Erika.

"Erika," said Patrick, "we'll take rooms for now, build up now that we're here--they've had to do without magic, and I suppose they've done rather well for that."

"Very well," said Thairl. "My name is Thairl, I'm chief record-keeper here. Need to get your names down so we can have 'em right for the tombstones."

"The tombstones?" repeated Erika. "I have no intention of dying any time soon, thank you very much. The name is Erika. Erika Redmark." She did not go into a long-winded discussion of who she had been on the surface--she felt that was utterly unnecessary.

"Erika Redmark, that's fine, now," said Thairl, dourly. "My wife, Janice here, she'll show you where you can stay."

"This will just never do," said Erika, following Janice.

"I'm sorry," said Janice. "It's the best we've got."

"Well, I'll just have to do something spectacular," said Erika. "The only way that this all will ever work. What sort of ... food do you people eat?"

"There's fish and lizards," replied Janice. "Some mushrooms, but they're not much to speak of. And the cows ... milk and cheese when we track them down."

"Track them down?" said Erika.

"We came under attack right after they were put through the portal," said Janice. "We rounded up a few, but a lot of them got away. We're not sure if they're still living in the wilds or not."

"Under attack?" said Erika. "You make that sound like it's a common thing."

"It is," said Janice simply. "There's the two-footed lizards. Slithzerikai, I'm told. And then there's the demon."

"A demon," muttered Erika, giving Janice a wave of dismissal. "I should have known there'd be a demon near here, with Garzahd involved."

Alone in her new quarters, Erika took stock of the situation. Rough stone walls, bones and lizard skin furnishings.

_'Absolutely ridiculous! I can't work in conditions like this,'_ she thought.

Hours later, the final spell cast, Erika looked around the room with a great deal more satisfaction. The place fairly glimmered with the number of spells that had been cast to improve the appearance of the place.

Satisfied with that, she left the room, and made her way along the stream.

"You can't go out alone!" said Firmin, sounding shocked. "It's terribly dangerous."

"I will be fine," said Erika with her usual hauteur. "I have decided that it is time for a new hobby. I'm going to take up botany."

Beyond the shabby walls built by the people who had ended up in the caves before her, there was the smell of sulfur, and she sniffed, sorting the differences as only a mage could between demonic presences and volcanic vents. There were growls and other odd noises in the distance, and she sorted those into categories of threats. None that made her consider returning to the walls, even for such a purpose as to gather a weapon or a companion.

The stream flowed lazily enough, and she started looking over the lichens growing there. The fungus far above, glowing with its faint green light.

"Illuminato!" she said, gesturing to the fungus above, and the light grew--still dimmer than the sun above, but the fungus was multiplying rapidly, spreading over the far-distant ceiling with a speed recognizable to the naked eye.

"Well, it's a small improvement," she said, and turned her attention down to the little lichen flakes.

Scraping some of these into the palm of her hand, she made her way back into the fortress.

"I am glad you have returned safely," said Firmin.

"Why should I not have?" said Erika, and with that, continued to her improved room.

"Not everyone who ventures past the walls has done so well," said Firmin.

"I think you will find," said Rone, walking up to them, "that Erika's abilities ... it was the threat that her skill provided to Garzahd that got her down here, and those skills will stand her--and us all--in good stead. It was you who turned up the lights, no?"

"Yes," said Erika. "I needed to see better. This lichen ... it's not much to work with."

"No," said Rone, "but it should be sufficient. What do you plan?"

"I haven't decided yet," said Erika, and she continued on to her quarters.

Ostoth had spent several days bringing dishes of fish to the door of Erika's room, and eventually removing the emptied dishes. He had not actually seen her during all this time, but it was evident that she was up to something inside there.

When Erika finally did emerge, she almost immediately ran into Solberg.

"Good to see you've come out," said Solberg. "How have the experiments been going?"

"Slowly," said Erika, with a scowl. "Very slowly. I think I shall have to find a way to retrieve my books."

"You could just go up there?" said Solberg.

"No, I can't," said Erika. "Garzahd told me, the curse he put on me, it's unbreakable, and sunlight will kill me."

"At night, then," said Solberg.

"Too risky," said Erika. "I dare not."

"I never thought I should live to see the day," said Solberg, "when the great Erika Redmark would shrink back and dare not to do something."

"You are free to go," said Erika.

"I do not have your skill," said Solberg, seeming unruffled by the declaration. "And I've Cheeseball to consider. Poor fellow is still taking it quite hard, getting pitched down here with me."

"Who can blame him?" said Erika. "Bats aren't a good substitute for mice."

"No, they are not," said Solberg. "I never thought Garzahd would send a familiar ... And the conditions here are ..."

"Impossible," said Erika. "I know. I shall simply have to rise to the occasion, and do something spectacular."


	10. Chapter 9: Grah Hoth's Setback

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the characters of Micah, Thairl, Janice, Enla, Erika, Solberg, Cheeseball, Rone, Patrick, Hathwisa, Aimee, Ostoth, and Linda remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

* * *

Erika had been good on her word, as Solberg, Rone, Patrick, Aimee, Enla, Linda, and Ostoth began using their magics to improve the walls and buildings of the small fort that had been built around the place where the portal put the exiled of Empire. Erika herself began scribing marks into the cave floor to surround the fort, though she did not share with any the purpose of these marks, though she made quite clear to the various group leaving the fort for hunting or fishing that they were to carefully step over and never mar the marks.

Magic added to muscle had begun to enlarge the fort, the stones carving easily by magical means into blocks, and the people doing mundane work set to making the mortar to hold the stone.

Botany experiments, she called her work—rows of mushrooms growing larger and fatter than the mushrooms they had seen before. Fungal light might not be bright, but it was brighter than it had been, and the lichens were coming along, twisting into shapes that were starting to resemble trees.

"Do not touch those," Erika said sharply as Janice made a move toward the new tree which Erika had dubbed 'cavewood'. "They are not yet ready."

"I am sorry," said Janice, "but you're making it rather difficult ... so much space given to ..."

"I need every bit of that space," said Erika, "and you will be grateful. When I have finished my work here, then ..."

She was interrupted by the sound of a horn sounded from the walls.

"What's that about?" said Erika.

"The demon is coming!" said Janice, looking terrified.

Around them, the people of the small fort were scurrying inside as the sound of leathery wings flapping could be heard.

Erika snorted and made her way to the stairs as the horn-blower was rushing down, having done his duty in sounding the alarm.

"Take cover!" he yelled as he passed.

"Erika!" called Solberg. "What are you doing?"

"I don't have time to be interrupted like this," said Erika. "Come with me or go cower indoors with the rest, whichever you wish."

"Do you know what you're doing?" said Solberg as Linda approached.

"Most certainly," said Erika with a joyless smile. "Ah, Linda. Come along, you might be useful, too."

Behind the three mages, the rest of the inhabitants of the fort had managed to take cover as the demon came into view.

"Delicious! Sacrifices!" said the demon.

"Grah-Hoth!" gasped Linda, the name barely voiced in her shock. She little cared that she was revealing now how Garzahd had dabbled in the forbidden arts, and could not even spare the thought to hope that she had not revealed her own lust for the powers that could be given by the demon.

"No sacrifices here," called out Erika in a loud voice. "Go away and quit bothering us."

"Who are you, that I should listen to a mere human," sneered the demon.

"I am Erika, of clan Redmark," she said, "Imperial Incantrix, and I could have easily chosen to smite your master."

"I have no master!" roared the demon, a gout of sulfuric breath adding to the general stench of the air of the underground land of the exiles.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Grah-Hoth," said Erika. "Everyone knows you're naught but a little puppet who dances at the will of the worm Garzahd."

"Garzahd is not my master!" screamed the demon. "I am the master of him!"

"Be that as it may," said Erika, apparently unruffled, "you will leave us alone now. Grah-Hoth, I forbid you to approach the people of this fort. Grah-Hoth, I forbid you."

"NOOO!" cried Grah-Hoth, and a stream of fire arced through the air from his mouth toward the walls, his intent to incinerate the three mages clear.

Erika waved her hand, and the stream of fire seemed to meet an invisible wall, the heat carrying through to ruffle the hair and clothes of the mages before it redoubled and struck Grah-Hoth.

"You cannot hurt me!" he said.

"Grah-Hoth, leave, I command it," said Erika.

"Not without my tribute!" said Grah-Hoth, and he began flying toward the fort walls at what seemed a breakneck pace.

"He'll come through!" cried Linda in alarm.

"Never," said Erika, and the marks that she had made around the fort flared into a flawless iridescent dome of light.

Grah-Hoth's speed was too great to change course, and in arrogance, he did not try—only to find that he bounced painfully away from the dome of light, and the demon screamed.

"Grah-Hoth, I command you to leave this fort in peace," said Erika.

"For now," snarled Grah-Hoth. "For now ... but mark my words, one day your wards will fail, and I will devour all within."

The demon turned, flying away from the fort.

"What is your plan for next time?" said Solberg.

"I haven't one yet," replied Erika. "But I will. For now, though, we have some peace so I can continue with my experiments."

The three mages started down from the stairs to the wall-top.

"All clear!" called out Solberg in a booming voice.

The people of the fort cautiously opened doors and emerged into the courtyard.

"Erika!" said Micah, trailed by Odele. "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done! Never has that demon left without taking someone."

"It's a small thing," said Erika, "and a rather pointless victory, for if I know Garzahd, he'll just find another way to keep his pet fed."

"But it gives us a chance," said Micah. "We can do something here, and prepare better for the next assault on the fort walls."

"Better to prepare to take the war to Grah-Hoth," said Erika. "But that is a fight for another day. Today, I have mushrooms to attend to."

"Mushrooms?" said Solberg. "You're still playing botanist?"

"As you play engineer," said Erika. "I've noticed how you build the walls, your unseen servants carving rocks and setting them into place while you set the folk to making the mortar. It's a good job you're doing."

"Thank you," said Solberg. "I didn't realize you'd noticed."

"Of course I have," said Erika. "Linda, why don't you come with me? We have a great deal to talk about."


	11. Chapter 10: Expansion

A/N: The wonderful world of Exile (Avernum) and the characters of Micah, Thairl, Janice, Enla, Erika, Solberg, Cheeseball, Hrothar, Rone, Patrick, Hathwisa, Aimee, Ostoth, and Linda remain the property of Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software, not me. Some information has been drawn from the Encyclopedia Ermariana.

"Do you have any idea what you have done!" said Firmin, sounding quite angry as he all but shook his fist in anger.

Calmly, looking at the man as though he were an interesting experiment, Erika said, "Of course, I have bought time for this place, so that I can get a proper lab for my work."

"We don't know that," said Micah. "It may have made matters worse."

"Do not worry," said Erika. "The demon will be spending its time licking its wounds. That we know its name is a great advantage."

"Don't be so sure," said Thairl. "We will all die, consumed by demons ... this place is hell."

Odele said, "Don't be ridiculous, Thairl. This might not be what we **wanted**, but it is home now. And it is beautiful. The caves and the crystals, these cavewood trees that Erika is bringing into being."

"We shall see," muttered Thairl darkly. "Demons and lizards, monsters on all sides. We are doomed." And with that, the ever-cheerful sage stalked away, continuing his mutterings.

"Now, if you will please step aside," said Erika, "I have work to attend to. My botany experiments are going well, but this place is much too crowded, and I need a proper work place."

As Erika moved on, Firmin said, "Micah, I realize that she has done much good for us, but you mark my words, there will come a day when she has gone too far, and she will bring disaster on all of our heads."

"That's the way of mages," said Micah, shaking his head.

The portal glowed, and spat out another man—it had been something that happened irregularly, but the dark-skinned human landed nimbly in the area that had been made at the base of the portal, a flat space that allowed newcomers to stand rather than tumble helplessly down the hill, his posture one of a warrior expecting to come under attack.

Micah and Firmin walked together to the portal.

"I would say well met," said Firmin, "but this is not a place where anyone is happy to be. I am Firmin, first exile. And this is Micah, our battle leader. Welcome to our fort."

"And I am not trusting you," said the man. "Evil days, these."

"Yes, it is an evil day that brings us another person here," said Micah. "For that means that Empire continues as it was ... but here, we are together, and we are trying to find a way to make ... well, the best of it, I suppose."

"Have weapons?" he asked.

"A few," said Micah. "We keep them in common for now ... we organize some hunting parties to go out after the lizards ... well, that and fight the occasional battle against the two-legged lizards."

"Lizard on two legs?" said the man. "What are those?"

"We don't know," said Micah. "Except that they are deadly, using spears with two points, and it is only together that we have been able to keep them from killing us."

"And why should I believe that you would help me?" said the man.

"You were betrayed, too?" said Micah.

"Too?" said the man.

"A friend of mine revealed where we were," said Micah. "Not that I completely blame him—I saw him before they sent me down, and they had tortured him terribly. He barely looked human. They might have done the same to those who were close to you."

"Yessss," said the man, hissing in his anger.

"And I understand it," said Micah. "I forgave him ... it wouldn't help me much down here to hate him. But I have not forgiven Empire for what they did. For now, though, we're just trying to survive. Will you join us? It is more certain that you will live together with us than if you were to strike off on your own, even if we granted you one of the weapons we have in store."

"Very well," said Hrothar. "I will stay and speak with you further. I am Hrothar, Prince of the Latandi of Vanatas."

"I am honored to meet you," said Micah. "Come, let me introduce you to my wife."

"You have a wife here?" said Hrothar.

"She was my wife up there, too," said Micah. "But they killed our child when they sent us down."

"I am sorry," said Hrothar, taken aback by Micah's detached manner of speaking of the loss.

"So now you know why Empire will never be forgiven," said Micah, with the thinnest of smiles. "Come and we'll find you a place to stay for now."

Hrothar started after Micah, and Thairl walked up.

Thairl said, "Welcome to our doom."

"You'll have to get used to him," said Micah. "This is Thairl, a sage who seems to never have found anything to enjoy."

"Down here, no," said Thairl. "There is nothing."

"Like I said," said Micah, "Thairl is chairman of the sunshine committee."

"He sounds like a man with sense," said Hrothar.

"I tell you," said Thairl, "that mage has gone too far, and will be the doom of us all."

"Yes, you missed that," said Micah. "We **may** have gained a respite from one of our persistent attackers here."

"What is this?" said Hrothar.

"There is a demon, named Grah-Hoth, who claims rulership over these caves," said Micah. "He has attacked, I suppose since the beginning?"

Firmin said, "Yes, since the beginning, that demon has plucked away at our numbers. Today was the first day that he left without devouring one of our number. We still don't know if there will be worse retaliation."

"In any case, what was done is done," said Micah. He led the way to the small room that he shared with his wife.

Odele said, "Ah, no--not another to join us."

"Afraid so," said Micah. "Odele, this is Prince Hrothar, just arrived. Hrothar, this is my wife, Odele."

"A star should shine on the day of our meeting," said Hrothar. "If only it were not a day of evil."

"Evil has sent us all to this place," said Odele, "but we will rise above it."

"My wife sees beauty in this place," said Micah. "It keeps me from despair."

"We can curse the evil, but it may not die in our lifetimes," said Hrothar, nodding.

"And so it is that we must deal with the situation as it is," said Micah.

As the days passed without another visitation from Grah-Hoth, Micah gathered his people around a table.

"For too long," said Micah, "we have been scratching and holding onto this tiny toehold in the caves. If we are to prosper, we must expand."

"Easy for you to say," said Thairl. "We could build walls from the bones of those who died."

"I realize that," said Micah. "But thanks to Erika," and he gave a nod of the head to the raven-haired woman, "we seem to have a bit of a respite. I believe we should build and expand now."

With that, he unrolled a parchment on the table.

"This represents our current walls," he said, pointing out the small space. "Erika, would it be possible to build those barriers that you used to such effect along these lines?" He traced a finger around a larger square. "Once defended, we can further improve the area around the portal, so that our ... newcomers ... are not subjected to the indignities that they" he glanced upward, "intended. Along with better walls, and here would be a tavern, and shops, and homes."

"It could be done," said Erika. "It will take me time, however."

"I'm afraid we have more time than we know what to do with," said Micah.

"We just accept this?" said Hrothar, staring at the parchment. "Accept being cast down here?"

"We have choices," said Odele. "We can continue to curse at our fate and build nothing for fear of seeming to accept our fate; or we can build, and from there, one day we will make them pay for the evil they have done. Or if not us, our children."

Solberg said, "It will take a great deal of work to accomplish this."

"I realize that," replied Micah. "But I believe it is a work worth doing."

"Indeed it is," said Firmin. "For too long, we have been holding our own and no better. It is time that we build, and in time, this exile will be the end of the tyranny above."


End file.
